


Dances with Partners

by alynwa



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4877308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was originally written for the "What's My Line?" Challenge on LJ.  My inspirations for the story were two videos, "Thinking Out Loud" by Ed Sheeran and "How Can I Be Sure" by the Young Rascals.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Dances with Partners

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the "What's My Line?" Challenge on LJ. My inspirations for the story were two videos, "Thinking Out Loud" by Ed Sheeran and "How Can I Be Sure" by the Young Rascals.

Napoleon and Illya were sitting in their office with cups of coffee and stacks of paperwork to occupy them. They had been working quietly for about an hour when tapping on their door caused them both to raise their heads. “Enter!” Napoleon called.

The door slid open to reveal Maggie, one of the girls from the secretarial pool. “Hi, Mr. Solo,” she said, “I was just in the gym. Miss Dancer and Mr. Slate are there and she asked if you would come see them.”

“Thanks, Maggie. Maybe we can do lunch next week?” The CEA’s dazzling smile proved too much for the young woman who backed out of the door giggling and blushing ferociously, unable to speak coherently.

Illya watched her go and just shook his head. “Well, she seems to have the IQ level that you like.”

“Ha-ha.” Napoleon placed a newly signed report in his “Out” box. “Come with me; April and Mark have been preparing to join that dance studio we suspect is a THRUSH front for drug smuggling. Their cover is they’re instructors, so they’ve been working on several dance routines.”

“I know April took dance classes for years, but I did not know Mark knew how to dance.”

“He doesn’t really, but April told me she had ideas about how to fake it.”

They entered the elevator and Illya pushed the “down” button to take them to the gym level. When they walked into the room, the first thing they noticed was April’s outfit which consisted of a white bustier lace – up leotard with a white see – through gauzy handkerchief skirt that flowed gracefully over her body. She was also barefoot. By comparison, Mark was dressed more conservatively in jeans, a long – sleeved white shirt with blue pinstripes with a vest and he was wearing shoes.

The next thing they noticed was there was an audience made up of secretaries, Section IIIs and IVs sitting up in the bleachers. He glanced at his watch and conceded that it was probably lunchtime for them.

The two junior agents came to where Napoleon and Illya stood. “Don’t mind them, Napoleon. I asked them to spend their lunchtime here so that Mark can get used to dancing in front of others. He’s doing wonderfully,” she added proudly as she rubbed his arm.

“She makes me look good, Mates. I’m mostly walking and lifting ‘er.”

April grinned and said, “I asked you down because we’re ready to go, I think, and I want you to see us perform. Have a seat, please, Gentlemen.”

The men sat while April and Mark moved toward the center of the floor. Holding out his arms, Mark asked, “Shall we dance?” and smiled when April moved confidently into them. She nodded to the agent manning the stereo who placed the needle on the record and seconds later, the sound of a modern song with a waltz rhythm began to play. The two stood facing each other and then, April lifted Mark’s chin with her right hand and they began to dance. In truth, they began to glide across the floor.

Mark was right; he was basically walking and lifting his partner, but thanks to April’s choreography, the lifts looked difficult and her complicated footwork and frankly, her body, took the focus away from his steps. The result was a smooth, sensual, erotically charged dance that held the attention of everyone in the room.

When the music died away and the dancing stopped, the two partners stood with their arms around each other for a few seconds before separating and turning, hand in hand, to bow to the bleachers. The cheering, clapping and whistling that exploded from the audience caused them to laugh and hug each other. Napoleon gave them a standing ovation while his more reticent partner clapped his appreciation from his seat.

“So? Are we ready to take on our assignment?”

“Absolutely! I’m so impressed! You should prepare to leave for Austin tonight. I’ll tell Travel to get your tickets and itineraries ready. Excellent work! I’m certain you’ll fool every THRUSH in your path.”

Embarrassed to received such unabashed praise, April and Mark mumbled something about needing to pack and hustled out the door. Napoleon looked at the remaining staff and tapped his watch meaningfully. They rose almost as one and headed out, leaving the CEA and his partner alone. “You didn’t have much to say, Tovarisch.”

“ _My_ approval was not the one they were seeking. They worked well and they will do well on their assignment.”

Napoleon looked at the set of Illya’s shoulders. No one else would have noticed, but no one else is the Russian’s partner. “You were jealous.”

The blond head snapped up to stare at the man standing in front of him. He thought about denying it, but he couldn’t hide the truth from Napoleon.

“Yes,” he admitted grudgingly. “I do not know why, though.”

“I do. The way they moved together, the way they looked at each other. One would have to be blind to not see the trust between them.”

Illya nodded. “ _Da_. She knew she would not be dropped or hurt and it showed on her face. They were both able to relax and just _be_. It is a good partnership; Waverly did well to pair them.”

Napoleon started to laugh. Whatever was tickling him made him laugh so hard, he had to sit down. He looked at Illya and laughed harder. “Oh! Oh! My sides!” Illya sat calmly and waited. “I was just thinking, ha ha ha, I was just thinking that if you were a woman, _we’d look like that_!” He laid down on the bleacher and howled in hysterical mirth. “It’s a _compliment_!” he yelled as his partner stood and began walking to the exit. “We’d look good together! People would be jealous of _us_!”

He managed to get up and ran ahead of the Russian and held the door with arms open. “Shall _we_ dance?”

He just barely ducked the punch thrown his way.


End file.
